America Visits Philippines
by JulietGivesUp
Summary: America is sent to live and fix his relationship with Philippines. He doesn't like it there so far...but will his opinions change? (In America's point of view; first-person).
1. Chapter 1

**❀Entry #1: Stupid Airplane**❀

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><p>Hey you guys! America here! …or Alfred F. Jones, whichever. You can call me both but I'd prefer The Hero or Captain America or something along those lines.<p>

Anyways, I'm sitting in an airplane right now typing this 'cuz I'm really bored and I need something to distract me from this kid kicking my chair from the back row. I should really be in the business class part of this stupid airplane but apparently my awesomeness was affecting the boring atmosphere there or something.

Those people are a real stick in the ass y'know? Talk about rude…

So here I am on the suckiest section of the plane where all of the babies are wailing and all the old people are snoring. Speaking of old people, this old lady beside me just dropped her teeth thingy 'cuz she's sleeping with her mouth open again.

Hmm…I wonder if I should wake her up and tell her…

Nah, she might whack me again just like last time. It still hurts…what on earth does that woman have in her purse? Hahahaha! It totally rhymes!

In any case, you might be wondering why I'm in this stupid plane in the first place. Well, my boss sent me a one way flight to the Philippines. Don't really get the whole point though. I only remember him saying something about fixing my relationship with ol' Philip and learning from their "appropriate morals" and "simple lifestyle" and some shit like that.

I don't mean to brag, but I have a pretty decent lifestyle going on right now. I have at least a hundred fast food chains in every one of my awesome cities and to top it off, everything in the menu's juicy and delicious. After a super-sized meal at McD's, I can easily drive to the nearest movie theater and watch multi-million dollar action movies straight from Hollywood. Heck, I can even be in one of Tom Cruise's movies if I pay a good enough sum of money. I mean seriously, who doesn't want this good looking face in the camera?

Anyways, back to the point, me and my people totally have an awesome "lifestyle" back at my place. And freedom, baby! Oh yeah, we got lots of that back home. How many countries do you know will let you wear a meat costume to the Grammy's huh?

Ha! Only in America…

As for that whole "resolve your connection and affiliations with Philippines" thing, I don't remember ever starting any problems with her in the first place. Besides, it's not like she hates me, or can for that matter. Everybody loves me (just ask Japan).

Also, I don't really remember much about Philippines only that it's hot as hell.

I-I'm referring to the place! Not her as a country. I mean person, I mean…err…whatever, man. Like I said, I don't remember much about her or what she generally looks like so fuck off.

So yeah, moving on!

When I came to help her beat the crap outta Spain and Japan several decades ago, I remember almost dying of a heat stroke. I swear to the U.S. flag, I sweated out probably a whole week's worth of my hamburger and french fries stock the whole time I was there. It was a total nightmare, I tell ya.

But this time America the Smartass Hero has come prepared. I carefully selected all my short sleeve shirts and shorts for this trip so I'll be fresh and cool all through the scorching day. Not only that, but I've loaded my whole suitcase with sunscreens. Not kidding. I brought along two full luggage of them. SPF 60.

Beat that you stupid sun! Bring on the heat!

I can't help but feel like I forgot something though…

Oh well, I'll remember it sooner or later. My plane's about to land and the hostess is bugging me turn my computer off. Pfft, talk about lousy service. See ya in a little while and don't forget to send me a little something to read! It looks like I really won't be doing anything here for a long while.

(Hopefully they'll serve some mango shakes on the way out. It's already getting hot…)

-The United States of Alfred-

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><p><strong>Wow...I started off really obnoxious. Forgive me but I had to do it TT^TT. Go Team Hetalia! Yeah, so technically this is just one of those send America letters and stuff, but there's a story behind it all; narrated by the one and only America.<strong>

**A little personal background: I am Filipino but I am currently living in the U.S. For some reasons unknown even to me today, I used to be as boneheaded as America in this fic about Philippines as a whole. All I thought about it was that it was always hot, polluted, and sucked living there. However, now I have finally opened my eyes and grew out of my stupid state and believe that Philippines is not bad at all. I've come to learn that the bad balances with the good and the good balances out with the bad in every country, no matter where I go. Unfortunately, I don't know as much as I would like to about Philippines so I'll be researching and digging into the Filipino culture as I make this story.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N: Hello to you reading this here story. Actually, I was surprised that people are actually still reading the story. I wrote this about a year ago and I have to be honest with you, I winced a couple of times rereading my own writing. But now that I'm back, I'll try to make the story sound more interesting and hopefully more fun to read. Although, I can't help the fact that I'll be using a lot of annoying American slang because like I said before, this is in America's point of view. The content may seem a skewed or negative to us Filipinos, but stick with it and I'll promise it'll get better. Keep in mind that this is in a foreigner's point of view.**

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><p><strong>❀Entry #2: Meeting the Pearl of Orient❀<strong>

So it's night time right now and I totally can't sleep. Perfect time to write something on my awesome blog right? Yeah, totally. Hopefully, Piri won't wake up. She's sleeping right beside me and she threatened earlier that if I wake her up, she was gonna "bato ko ang chinelas ko sa ulo mo", or something along those lines. I have no idea what that means, but I don't wanna mess with a Filipina on my bed.

Wait. That totally came out wrong. I meant I don't want to mess with her in the sense that I'll get her mad which might in turn get me a shiner in the morning, not in the way that _you_ were probably thinking of, where I would – fuck, never mind. You know what I mean.

I suppose I should start from the beginning. Okay, so at about three o'clock the stupid plane finally landed in Manila airport. After getting off, I just realized that nearly all of the people in it were Filipinos. They were all speaking faster than any valley girl I'd ever met in California and I gotta be honest with you, the hero felt kinda left out being the only blonde out of a sea of black and brown heads. I guess I should probably get use to it now that I'm gonna be staying in a different country. Specifically, one that I had to be "modest" in. Honestly, why can't people be more energetic and outspoken like us, Americans?

Okay, so I went to the arrival terminal with those Asian folks practically racing out with their many, many boxes, eager to see their relatives. And it sure was a sight to see! Whole families were clustering into large mobs laughing and crying, ecstatic to finally see each other. Everyone around me were being greeted with hugs and kisses, grandpas with their old-man-canes being escorted by their grandchildren. Again, I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

I wanted a hug too.

With that in mind, I went out looking for _my_ welcome party. My boss said Philippines would be picking me up and I absolutely couldn't wait to see how happy she'd look seeing me here. Oh, and I kinda wanted to see her too. Don't get me wrong, I was on the edge of my seat to see her then. I've heard Filipino women were like, the hottest thing ever with their long, flowing black hair and their sun-kissed skin. Oh, and let's not forget to mention their attractive assets, if you know what I mean.

Kinda makes you think of one of them posters of Hawaiian hula dancers with their grass skirts and coconut bras. Y'know what I'm sayin'?

Before I actually write and describe her to all you guys, I would just like to express my extreme disappointment that a hot, Filipino woman wearing a grass skirt and a coconut bra was _not_ there to serve me a cool glass of mango shake. Or even juice, for that matter. Can you believe my total disappointment in that? I mean, I was totally expecting a group of those women dancing the hula in front of me and seductively putting flower necklaces on my head as I descend from my great, alabaster white plane. God _that_ was the dream. Maybe not the _American dream_, but quite close to being almost as good.

Yeah, all of you can sigh from disappointment now. I mean, I most certainly did.

Instead, I met up with a tan, short…err…person with the biggest scowl I'd ever seen since England witnessed me throw away all those barrels of tea in 1773.

Now, I know what you're thinking: 'America, that person you met is _**not**_ Philippines. Nope, Philippines is suppose to be nice and happy and cute like one of Japan's kiwi cartoon characters. Nu-uh, not Philippines _at all_, although I would like to apologize for objecting you and your great, heroic brain. You are such a smart and handsome man after all and you had every right to be confuzzled in the first place. Like, totally.'

Well, it's okay if you didn't believe me. I didn't believe me either; I was expecting just about the same thing as you. In place of an adorable, sweet, sexy, little Philippines was a girl (I mistook her for a boy at first), about 5'2 in height wearing a very boyish outfit; cargo shorts and a loose, red shirt that was too big to even see her frame or even any of her fabled voluptous curves. Damn it. Anyway, the little Asian had on a cap, her dark hair somehow fitted inside the cap. Seriously, even you people could've mistaken her for a guy.

He – I mean, _she _was glaring at me from under that hat of hers like she was gonna kill me or something. I had goosebumps in the middle of May, for goodness sakes. But fear not citizens, the hero can conquer anything threatening his way no matter how ravenous and deadly the monster turns out to be. Gathering up my manhood I managed to squeak – err, charmingly say, "Howdy. I'm America. I wasn't expecting to-"

"You be quiet," she seethed cutting me off right in the middle of my sentence. "I will come right out and say it. I really don't like you, nor do I appreciate you being here. The only reason why I'm putting up with you is because of my president. Whether you like it or not, Mister America, you are in my land and following my rules. Got that?" She ended pointing her finger menacingly at my face.

I shook my head yes – _totally_ not feeling the sudden urge to pee in my pants, and followed her to the rotating watcha-ma-call-it to pick up my suitcases. She grabbed them from the spinning thingy and suddenly dropped them on the floor.

"What's in this thing?" she asked me and I replied by offering to carry them instead. I have no idea whether she was just ignoring me then or what, but the manly-beast-tomboy – I mean girl, ripped open my suitcase with all my stuff in there literally oozing out.

Gosh darnit! ...The sunscreens got onto my shirts. The label even says it stains. Shoot. I liked those shirts too!

"Aww man! Why'd you do that you crazy chick!?" I made an attempt to salvage whatever sunscreen I could still use, depositing the gooey stuff onto a random plastic bag I found. I was going to need as much as I can if I was going to survive in this country, after all.

Philippines crouched down. I was half expecting her to help me but to my surprise she was actually throwing away the ruined little tubes of sunscreen.

"Hey, don't do that! I'm gonna fry and sizzle in this heat if I don't have 'em all," I protested. The chick threw me a look, zipped up my bags (now emptied of the sunblock), and trudged away carrying them.

"You don't need it," she hissed.

What could I do, right?

The totally awesome nation of America could only follow the wickedly boyish nation to his doom. Err, my doom. I got out of the air conditioned haven of the building and was met with a blast of heat almost K.O.-ing me in the face. God, it was even hotter than I remembered.

I looked around beside Philippines, her arms making some strange hand signals towards the street.

"Err…what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" she muttered.

"Uhh…right…yeah, you do that," I said clearly unsure of what to do. It was a hundred degrees out and I wasn't surprise that she was already losing it. One point for the hero, actually staying sane in this ridiculous heat.

"Umm. Where's the car by the way?" I looked around expecting a nice, shiny Volvo or even a BMW making its way towards us. There was one headed our way but it just passed by, not even sparing me a glance. It was then that I thought that we just might be riding in a limo! That's why it was taking so long!

"...What car?"

"A car. You know? It's a vehicle, automobile, something you drive around in? Vroom, vroom, vroom?" I imitated the sound my engine would make back home.

She's a pretty sweet ride, let me tell ya. Black leather seats, shiny red color, adorned with the stars and stripes proudly tattooed to finish it off. And get this; it plays the Star Spangled Banner when I honk the horn. Oh and I have no trouble finding it at a garage parking. It plays 'America the Beautiful.' I told the composer to change it to 'America the Strikingly Handsome' but they said it wouldn't sell. But can you just imagine my baby? Just sitting back home with her lonely self, waiting for Papa to come back and cruise around once more?

Unfortunately, El Presidento took it from my garage before I left. Tsk, _he_ probably wants to cruise around in it, too shy to ask me when I'm, like, right there. So boys and girls, if you ever see that truck driving by your street you can be sure that the president of the United States is riding it. At least for now.

But anyways, she dead panned and was all like,

"No car, we're riding a jeepney."

So I was all like, " Sweet!" 'cuz I was expecting a decked out, top of the art 2013 Jeep Patriot with two 4-cylinder engines and 158 horsepower - but no, I was dragged into a cramped jeepney _jeepney_.

It was pretty awkward too.

It was like a furnace inside that thing and even fanning yourself wouldn't have made much of a difference.

Everybody was just staring at me like I just came out of a UFO, or something. Of course I'd smiled back, enticing a few giggles from a couple of uniformed girls but this one old man was grinning at me, but get this - he had no teeth! Well I can't say that he didn't have any at all, maybe like a few sticking out like popcorn kernels.

Oh yeah, and there's this one lady with a squirming bag between her legs. I was curious so I peeked, and there was just this fish head staring at me with his slimy, dying eyes. It's mouth was still opening and closing, probably to breathe or something.

It didn't help that my "guardian" was busy staring outside, apparently hating me for something I don't even know I done...or did. So I just sat there, keeping it cool.

Hahahahahaha. Cool. ...that's funny... You know? Because it was hot? Haha... No okay.

So like I said, I was keeping it cool when suddenly all these people were giving me money. I was handed these coins and I stuffed them in my pocket, 'cuz you know, you have to accept grace and you can't just refuse money that was given to you. That's like refusing gifts from Santa and that just ain't right.

However, it got to the point that it became really annoying and my pockets were filled with change, so I politely declined.

"No thank you," I said ever so politely.

And the dude insisted, "_Bayad_."

I was like, "I'm all good bro."

He kept insisting it, "_Bayad_!"

"No thanks."

"_Bayad_!"

"I said _no_, motherfucka!"

Okay, well I wouldn't really say that, nor did I ever get the chance too, because before I knew it, Piri suddenly attacked my head with the fan she was carrying and apologized to the persistent guy. She then stole the money from my pocket and passed the handful of coins down the aisle.

"That was not for you."

"Oh. ...my bad."

"Hm."

Later I learned that it was the other passenger's fares and that they passed it up to the driver. It was really embarrassing but thankfully, the golden arches distracted me from my humiliation. There, in the corner of the street was a Mickey D's! (for all of you who don't know what it is, don't be embarrassed, it's simply McDonalds).

Now let me tell ya, I felt tears pricking my eyes and I was seriously about to hug the golden arches but I wasted no time. I rushed in there more desperate than a soccer mom sleeping outside of WalMart during a Black Friday Sale.

"I'd like to order five Bid Macs, three double cheeseburgers - large, three Daily Doubles, and I think I'll get...hmmm... maybe six chicken wraps. Oh and some fries. Thanks," I fished for bills in my wallet. I hadn't exactly exchanged them for pesos yet. I hoped they didn't mind.

"U-Um excuse me sir. Please slow down."

I repeated my order with practiced ease.

"Sorry sir but we do not have some of your order in stock. May I suggest chicken with spaghetti instead?" the cashier asked me.

Piri butted in, "It's okay, he'll have whatever you guys have in stock."

I pouted and found a set near the glass window. Piri came back with the tray of food and set it down disapprovingly.

I unwrapped one of the burgers andndeadpanned. I swear, I totally lost it.

"What is this? Thi-This isn't even a...! L-Look at it, it's so tiny! It's like a baby Bic Mac - no it shouldn't even be called that! It should really be called a Junior Mac. What is this - I don't even - false advertising!" I gasped. I was seriously hyperventilating you guys. And then Piri stuffed a burger in my mouth.

"Shut up and stop complaining. You should be thankful that you are able to eat something like this and to be eating something at all. There are so many people out there that can't even affor-," she stopped, hearing a tap on the glass.

A little boy, skinny beyond comparison, was wiping the glass window with a dirty rag outside, mouthing off some words that we couldn't hear pass the glass. He couldn't have been more than seven years old and he wore a tattered brown undershirt, probably browned by dirt, and green basket shorts. His legs were like thin sticks and he wasn't wearing any slippers. He stopped talking and looked at me while I chewed on my burger. His eyes were very dark and you can almost feel the hunger in them. Several others joined him. There was a girl with short, curly hair, a tall boy, a girl with a stained dress, and another little boy without a shirt.

Piri pressed her face and her hand onto the window, gazing at them with mournful, defeated eyes. Of course, she would feel their pain. She was their mother. All of them were her children. I couldn't stand it anymore and looked away.

I stood up and walked away from the scene.

"Hey miss, can I get an order of twenty Big Macs and fries, please?"

"Yes of course! Will that be all, sir?"

"Uhh... twenty sodas to go along with that. Oh, and some ice cream sundaes - wait, you do have them here, right? Yeah? Okay make it twenty also."

I piled them all up including the ones that I ordered beforehand in two trays and went outside.

It was priceless to see their little eyes light up from seeing such little food. Well, at least it was little to me. Back home, we definitely have bigger sizes than this. I need to talk to the fast food representatives here. I gave them each their own meal; it wasn't much, just a hamburger, some fries, coke, and a sundae, but you could tell that they were grateful from the smiles that they gave me. Piri sauntered out, a surprised look in her face, before helping me distribute the meals.

There were some children digging through the garbage that I called on over to eat and soon there were flocks of them tugging my shirt and saying something in their foreign language. I had to come back three more times, hauling the food to feed the multiplying children crowding Piri and I. By the time most everyone was satisfied, I only had three dollars left in my wallet. But it was all worth it seeing those kids eat so enthusiastically. Their cheeks were stuffed with burgers and ice cream, most of the soda already gone.

For the first time that day, I saw Philippines smile as she spoon fed the younger ones. She gave me a fleeting look. Just a look. Nothing more, nothing less... but I was happy.

A little girl, the one with the curly hair, hugged my leg. "Maraming salamat po, mister puti."

I couldn't understand her, so I just settled to patting her head. She giggled and ran away to play with her friends.

That evening, Piri and I rode another jeepney to reach the place that she was staying at. It was quiet then, and it was only me and her. There were no other passengers aboard, thank goodness, and it was gradually cooling down - though it was still crazy hot. She didn't say that much during the ride and I was busy twiddling my thumbs.

"She said thank you by the way."

My head snapped up at her rare comments. "Who?"

She had her back turned to me, her face outlooking the passing view outside. It was as if she didn't even talk. I thought I was just hallucinating for a second.

"The small girl."

"Oh... um...yeah... totally. ...Uh-huh. Yup." What? Got anything better I could've said instead? Yeah. Didn't think so.

She was silent for a moment. I went back to twiddling my thumbs.

"You... did good," she muttered under her breath, but I could totally hear her 'cuz I have super hearing like that.

"Well! You shouldn't have expected less from a nation as awesome as me. Really ma'am, it was all in a day's work that I-"

"Don't ruin it."

"Got it."

And so we got to her house, where a healthy old lady immediately ushered us to our room - literally, we just _had_ to share rooms and here we are now.

Gosh, it's already frickin' morning! Can you believe it! Stupid jet lag. G'night... I mean morning, my peeps. Until next time!

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><p><strong>A.N: <strong>

**Well there you have it folks! Bit unexpected with Philippines' character, but trust me, it shall work out. Just stay tuned. I personally dislike the common portrayal of her character in most of the other stories out there. It's quite alright to imply her beauty (or her "kawaii-ness" or whatever) but let's be honest, Philippines is so much more than that! I thought I'd shake it up a bit and introduce her in a more fitting way. Yes, she seems sour now but remember, we must take the bad with the good. Oh, and for the record, I actually am in the Philippines at the moment so I can apply first-hand experience!**


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